


The Synth Between Us

by lyriumandmentats



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aftercare, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, First Time, Fluffy Ending, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nick Valentine's Day, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Humor, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, sexy beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-27 22:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17775764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyriumandmentats/pseuds/lyriumandmentats
Summary: "Where ya goin', Nicky?" Hancock asked. "Stick around, live a little. Wouldn't kill ya to loosen up a bit.""Your idea of loosening up is getting so high that you forget your name before picking fights with anyone who looks at you funny," the synth replied calmly. "I think I'll pass."-----Warren is drunk. Hancock is high. Nick suffers the consequences. Which might not be such a bad thing~For Nick Valentine's Day 2019~





	The Synth Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Nick Valentine's Day! <3  
> I was pleasantly surprised by how many people liked my last Nick/Male Sole fic so I decided to kick things up a notch.
> 
> Enjoy~!

Warren and Hancock appeared in the agency for the same reason as always; they needed a place to crash for the night before continuing on to Goodneighbor. And since the No Ghouls in Diamond City rule was the law of the land, the inn was out, leaving Nick's the only safe place to stay. 

"Mind if we stay the night, Nicky?" At least Warren was polite enough to ask for his permission, as if he would turn them away. 

Hancock, on the other hand, had already plopped down in the desk chair, a canister of jet in his gnarled hands. 

"Doesn't look like I have much of a say," Nick mumbled, but there was no malice in the words. 

"You always told me that your door was always open," Hancock said, pointing the canister at him. "Don't make offers you'll regret later."

"Didn't think you'd be getting high here every other weekend, is all."

Warren clapped a hand on the synth's shoulder. "I owe you one, Nicky," he said before sitting on the edge of the desk, watching the ghoul huff his chems with an amused expression. The Vault-Dweller pulled a bottle out of his pack, the label long since worn off; a fact that didn't seem to bother him, seeing as he still cracked it open and took a healthy swallow. 

"Don't burn the place down, you two," Nick warned, heading for the stairs. It had been a while since he'd run his last diagnostic check, and what better time to do it than now and avoid the two and their intoxicated shenanigans? 

"Where ya goin', Nicky?" Hancock asked. "Stick around, live a little. Wouldn't kill ya to loosen up a bit."

"Your idea of loosening up is getting so high that you forget your name before picking fights with anyone who looks at you funny," the synth replied calmly. "I think I'll pass."

"Ah, let him be, John," Warren said, pointing the neck of his bottle at the ghoul. "I'm all the entertainment you need, anyway."

First Hancock snorted and then the pair began to cackle, leaving Nick to roll his eyes as he made his way up the stairs. He placed his ratty fedora on top of his dresser before shucking his coat and setting it aside as well. Clad in just his trousers and ripped white shirt and old suspenders, Nick sank down onto the mattress, closing his eyes. 

It took a moment before he felt his body slow, processors firing up, signaling the start of the diagnostic scan. Nick could hear the two men talking loudly downstairs before there was a click and he went offline. 

* * *

The test went quicker than usual, only about forty-five minutes before Nick booted back up. A sharp beep from somewhere in his head warned him of a loose wire in his right arm and a missing screw in his jaw. Nothing new or particularly threatening, so he ignored them, stretching out before sitting up. Since he'd finished up in record time, Nick almost entertained the notion of joining the motley pair on the main floor. Not like he had anything else to do for the night.

It was then that he realized that he could no longer hear voices, and it was too early for them to have passed out. Maybe they had left? That seemed like a likely explanation, but still odd. Where would they have gone? Dawn was still hours away, and even though Warren had a death wish, Nick doubted even  _he_ would risk traveling the streets in the dark, or that Hancock would let him.

Still, if they  _had_ left, Warren would have left a note letting Nick know, so the synth placed his fedora back on more out of habit than anything and made his way down the stairs.

As he went, Nick picked up soft noises from the other room. Papers rustling and whispered voices. Intruders? He clenched his jaw, ready to confront whoever was lurking about as he stepped around the corner.

There were no intruders.

Warren and Hancock were still there.

And Hancock was currently in the process of sucking Warren off.

Nick froze, too in shock to know what to do. He could sneak back upstairs, pretend he never saw anything. That seemed like the wisest option, but his legs wouldn't move, joints paralyzed. Wide-eyed, the synth stared on as Warren continued thrusting his hips, Hancock making muffled sounds through a mouthful of cock. The Vault-Dweller's hair was tousled, shirt unbuttoned to expose his muscular, scarred chest. A few bruises and love bites were scattered here and there across his collarbone and up the side of his neck.

Warren let out a string of curses, one hand bracing himself against the desk while the other gripped the back of Hancock's head, urging him on. He tipped his head back, eyes closed, before glancing over in Nick's direction.

"Fuck," he said, and stopped moving.

Hancock grumbled in protest before sliding his mouth off of Warren's dick with an obscene sound. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, brow furrowed. "Thought I was doin' pretty good."

Warren was still staring at Nick, who stared back. The synth opened his mouth, with the intention of profusely apologizing and then excusing himself to go and jump off the roof of the building, but he just let out a soft burst of static. Hancock whipped his head around, but instead of looking embarrassed, had the balls to look  _pleased with himself._

"Hey, Nicky!" he said cheerfully. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I live here," Nick said dryly, brain still too shocked to think of anything else to say.

"Fuck, Nick, I'm sorry," Warren said, trying to put himself back in his trousers, but he was still hard so he settled on covering himself with Hancock's tricorn. "We were trying to be quiet. We didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I just didn't hear you so I thought you'd left. I should probably just, uh, just go." He pointed towards the door. He'd rather wander the streets for the rest of the night than deal with the current, uncomfortable situation.

Warren looked sincerely apologetic; an expression that was alien on his usually smug face. Hancock, though, looked as if Christmas had come early, grinning from ear to ear. He stood, rolling his shoulders, frock coat removed and poet's blouse open so that one sleeve had slipped down, revealing one gnarled shoulder. An image that would forever be burned into Nick's memory storage.

The ghoul leaned over and whispered something into Warren's ear, and the man immediately flushed, glancing over at Nick out of the corner of his eye.

"I dunno if that's the best idea, John. We did sort of traumatize him," he mumbled, and Hancock huffed.

"You don't know the answer until you ask," he said with a shrug. Warren chewed his lip before nodding and turning back to Nick, who was still staring at the pair.

"Nick, I'm gonna ask a question, and if you say no, that's fine. Don't think we'll take it personally." His words were slow, but Nick chalked that up to him trying not to slur. The now empty bottle Warren had been drinking from earlier was sitting not too far away, after all.

"All right," the synth replied, confused. What the hell could they possibly ask?

"Would you like to watch?" 

Nick felt a snap of electricity course through him as he startled. "Would I...what?" he croaked. "You can't...I couldn't..."

If he were human, there was no doubt his face would have been on fire. Why would he ask? Surely Warren wouldn't have asked if he were sober. He and Hancock were his  _friends_ _,_ and _friends_ didn't go around watching each other fuck. Did they? Nick might not have had all the proper anatomy of a human, but there was no denying the excitement, dare he say _arousal_ that settled somewhere in his abdomen.

"If you get uncomfortable you can leave," Warren said earnestly. "Just...I don't mind if you stay."

"Neither do I. You know I have a soft spot for ya, Nicky," Hancock said smoothly, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

Nick just nodded, and Warren's face rearranged from apologetic to its usual casual look. 

"You...you could sit down?" he suggested, and Nick nodded again. Hancock helpfully pulled the desk chair around to the wall, where the synth settled himself down.

Once he had sat, the ghoul turned to Warren and sauntered over, gathering up fistfuls of the man's shirt. "Where were he?" he hummed. "Oh, that's right."

He kissed his way up and down Warren's neck, and Nick caught the flash of teeth once or twice. Warren moaned as Hancock discarded the tricorn that had been covering his cock, which was swollen and red and leaking precum like a faucet. Nick was admittedly unfamiliar with the male anatomy, but he caught himself staring, admiring the man's erection. Long, thick, but was quickly obscured from view as Hancock took Warren in hand and started jerking him off. 

Warren's mouth opened and he let out a breathy groan, fucking up into Hancock's hand for several strokes before the ghoul again settled onto his knees and licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft. The two exchanged a meaningful look before Hancock swallowed him down. Nick felt hot, despite the sound of coolant pumping through his inner workings, and shifted in his chair. Warren glanced over at him, a look of concern on his face and looked as if he meant to speak, but all that came out was a long, drawn-out "fuck" as Hancock bobbed his head.

The  _sounds_ _._ Wet, garbled noises from Hancock, Warren hissing out curses as he fucked down Hancock's throat. Nick caught himself wondering what it tasted like.

Warren pulled his cock from the ghoul's lips with a pop, giving himself a few lazy strokes before he, too, broke out into a cruel grin.

"Strip." His voice was a low growl, and from Hancock's quickness to respond, Nick realized it was more an order than a suggestion. Hancock undressed in seconds, his own arousal prominent as it was exposed. Warren didn't move, just watched as Hancock gathered up his clothes, setting them aside before kneeling back on the floor, like he was waiting for something.

Warren stood and took a few steps closer, nudging the ghoul's knees apart with the toe of his boot before taking his chin in his hand, directing Hancock's face back to his cock. 

"You won't touch yourself unless I tell you to, understood?" Warren growled.

"Yes, sir," Hancock said, tip of his tongue wetting his lips. Warren nodded and Hancock once more took his length into his mouth, the Vault-Dweller murmuring encouragement as he swallowed inch by inch until the ghoul's face was flush with his abdomen. Tears sprung up in the corner of Hancock's eyes as his throat twitched, clearly trying not to gag on Warren's sizable length.

After a few moments, though, he seemed to grow used to it and began to bob his head again. Warren groaned out his approval, once more fucking down the ghoul's throat with such enthusiasm that Hancock had to place his hands on Warren's thighs just to stay upright. Nick swallowed, hands fisting in the fabric of his trousers. His clothes felt too tight. The room felt too small. And despite his better judgement, he found himself wishing he was in Hancock's place. After all, the ghoul was still rock hard and a moaning mess, so it couldn't be  _that bad_ _._

"Fuck, John," Warren panted. "T-touch yourself. I wanna see you come."

Hancock wasted no time gripping his cock, timing his strokes with every thrust of Warren's hips. A sheen of sweat glistened across the Vault-Dweller's bare chest and he dug his fingernails into Hancock's scalp as he let out a strangled sound, face twisting into an expression of exquisite agony. Hancock came not long after, painting his gnarled fingers in white. Nick writhed in his seat again as a prickle of static ran down his spine, followed by a shudder. He wondered what that felt like, to come undone and feel limp, boneless. 

The pair took a moment to catch their breaths, Warren sliding out of Hancock's mouth with a grunt. He pulled a square of fabric out of his pocket, wiping the ghoul's chin and hand before cleaning his cock, tucking himself away in his trousers. He glanced over at Nick with a small smile.

"How you feeling, Nick?" he asked, helping Hancock stand. The ghoul perched on the edge of the desk beside him, resting his head against the man's shoulder.

The synth just shook his head, unable to form the right words. Watching them was strangely satisfying, but he felt uncomfortable in his own synthetic skin. He may not have a dick of his own, but he could almost imagine one, straining desperately against his zipper, begging for attention. Warren looked concerned, squatting down in front of Nick and placing a hand on his thigh.

Nick jumped, letting out a sharp curse. The touch, however slight, felt like he'd been struck by lightning. Warren whipped his hand away, eyes wide.

"Are...are you all right?" he asked, giving Nick a scrutinizing look. "Did that hurt?"

"No, I'm...I'm all right," Nick croaked. "I just...that was..." Good? No, that didn't seem right. 

Warren wrinkled his nose. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "We shouldn't have asked you to stay. I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's not that, it's just --" He huffed, passing his stripped hand over his brow. Hancock gasped softly. 

"Nicky, are you  _jealous?"_ he asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 

The synth shot him a withering look, and Hancock grinned again. What an ass.

"Fuck, Nick, you don't need to be jealous. I don't mind sharing. Besides, 'Ren here has a _thing_ for you."

Warren glared at him. "Shut the fuck up, Hancock."

The ghoul feigned innocence. "What? You only told me once while you were drunk that you thought Nick was cute."

Despite the awkward tension, Nick couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "Cute?" he chuckled. "What is this, grade school?"

Warren flushed, looking embarrassed. "I mean, yeah, I said that, but I... This isn't the point here." He paused briefly before putting a hand on the synth's thigh again. Nick tensed at the tightening sensation in his chest, but didn't move away this time. "Nick, do you..." Warren sucked in a deep breath. "Can I kiss you?"

Jaw dropped, eyes widened, and Nick gave a small nod. He had forgotten how to speak again.

The man hooked a finger under his chin, careful to avoid the places where his internal gears were exposed. Slowly he leaned in and pressed a shockingly chaste kiss against Nick's lips. He detected the faintest taste of whiskey and cigarettes and was surprised by how smooth Warren's lips were. A soft, pleased sound escaped the Vault-Dweller's mouth as he broke away, grinning.

"That was nice," Nick said breathlessly, and Warren nodded. 

Hancock sauntered over, hands on his hips. "Hey, now, don't leave me out of the fun!" he grumbled, and Warren scoffed.

"No one is leaving you out, John," he said, grabbing the ghoul's wrist and pulling him down to their level.

Hancock peppered kisses across Warren's face, and the man looked mildly irritated but mostly pleased as the hand that was still sitting on Nick's thigh moved up higher, towards the synth's hips. Nick squirmed as the tips of Warren's fingers slipped up underneath the hem of his shirt, pleasantly warm against his rough, synthetic skin. The edges of his fingernails only barely brushed against one of the places where Nick's skin had thinned out over the years, and the synth let out a curse, though his voice was a barely audible hiss. Hancock stopped sucking a bruise onto Warren's throat long enough to glance Nick's way, dark eyes shining wickedly.

"Keep makin' noises like that, Nicky, and I might just have to kiss you, too."

 

Nick's gaze was intense, daring him to follow through, and Hancock obliged, claiming the synth's lips in a kiss that was far more fiery than the one he'd shared with Warren. He caught the edges of the ghoul's teeth brushing against his skin on more than one occasion. So overwhelmed he was that he almost didn't notice the fact that Warren had stood up and was in the process of unfastening his pants again. 

Hancock eyed the man's once more erect cock hungrily, but Warren shook his head.

"You had your turn already, John," he chided the ghoul with a soft smile. 

Nick swallowed audibly. Did that mean that Warren wanted him to...?

"You can say no, Nick," the Vault-Dweller said, still smiling that too-sweet smile. Like he wasn't running his fingers slowly, enticingly, along his waiting erection.

Words didn't seem right at the moment, so Nick shook his head, Hancock pausing in his affections to allow the synth a chance to move, shrugging entirely out of his shirt. His knees wouldn't thank him, that was for sure, but the thought of kneeling before Warren, letting him fuck his face like he had Hancock's; Nick had no doubt it would be worth it.

Again, though, Warren surprised him, stopping him short of kneeling, instead pulling him into a close embrace, sliding his tongue into Nick's mouth with a soft, growling sound. Hancock approached from behind, the synth sandwiched between the two, surrounded by warmth and muscle and hot mouths pressing searing kisses into every inch of them they could find. 

Eventually, though, Warren settled down on the edge of the desk, shifting to pull his trousers down a few inches. He beckoned for Nick to come closer, and the synth nearly tripped over himself in his haste to obey. Warren was still smiling that warm, pleasant smile even as Nick bent to meet his member with his lips. Hancock's gnarled hands circled his waist, running along his stomach and groin, all while the ghoul's own hardness was pressed firmly against his backside. 

Fingers massaged Nick's scalp, a gentle insistence, and the synth parted his lips, allowing Warren's cock to glide easily into the cavern of his mouth. He hadn't really known what he was expecting, but the stretch, the musky taste not too much unlike the way the Vault-Dweller smelled, the silky feel of Warren's cock as it brushed against his lips; it was better than what he had expected. And if the string of groans and curses that spilled from the man's mouth was anything to go by, it was good for him, too. 

The sensation of Hancock's ridged cock slipping between his thighs was not something Nick had anticipated, but even more surprising was how  _satisfying_ it felt. The slow drag as Hancock fucked between his legs, thrusts in time with the cock that slid in and out of his mouth. He couldn't make any noise beyond the occasional muffled blurb of static, but the litany of curses pouring from Warren and Hancock sounded like an angelic choir.

Nick had never felt so warm, so full, so  _desired_ before in his own existence, and not even the hazy memories of the original Nick's various escapades could compare to this feeling. This was  _his._

The synth let out a garbled sound when Hancock gripped his hips, gnarled fingers brushing against the sensitive edges of his synthetic paneling. He could hear the ghoul let out a low, breathy chuckle, pressing harder, clearly pleased by Nick's responses. Nick hung there, toeing the fine line between  _this is too much_ and  _this isn't enough._

Both of his friends --  _lovers, maybe?_ \-- seemed to grow close at the same time. Warren's thrusts into his mouth grew sloppy, the curses and praises he had repeated like a mantra dropped to guttural sounds. Hancock's pace picked up, quick, desperate, fingers raking up and down Nick's spine, paying special attention to the places that made the synth squirm. 

The fingers on his scalp dug into his skin, Warren popping his cock out of Nick's mouth only moments before he came, painting his completion across Nick's face in hot, white stripes. 

Nick heard a soft sound from inside his own skull; an alarm to warn him he was dangerously close to overheating. Every nerve was on fire, so it was no wonder his systems were too overwhelmed to pump coolant properly.

When Hancock finished as well, giving Nick's hips a few more haphazard thrusts, the synth felt like he was waiting. For something, anything, he didn't know specifically. But there was a tightness in his gut that threatened to kill him if  _something_ didn't happen.

Unfortunately, that something came in the form of Warren reaching out to clean his face. Fingertips brushed underneath the gap in his skin, barely grazed the edge of some random bit of wiring. Nick felt every joint in his body tense, lock up, the alarm in his head loud enough now he was sure all of Diamond City could hear it, and there was a rush of coolant as his body shut down.

* * *

"We fucking  _killed him!"_ Hancock's frenzied voice was the first thing he heard.

"Shut the fuck up, John, we didn't kill him. He's...I dunno, rebooting or something."

"He ain't a goddamn  _terminal,_ Warren."

Nick stirred. "You give yourself too much credit, Hancock. I'm not dead."

"Nick!" 

Warren and Hancock were fretting over him not two seconds later, the latter pulling the synth into a suffocating embrace while the former put away the rag and bottle of water he'd evidently been using to clean Nick up. 

"Are you all right?" Warren asked, hazel eyes filled with naught but concern as he straightened Nick's shirt. Apparently they'd gotten him dressed while he was unconscious and helped him into his bed, and a wave of gratitude towards the pair washed over him. 

"Eh, I've been through worse," Nick quipped. "I need a bit for all of my systems to come back online, but that wasn't the most unpleasant way to force a reboot."

Warren and Hancock exchanged relieved looks. Nick shifted. Coolant was flooding through his inner workings to make up for lost time, and it made him feel cold. 

"Nicky, you're shivering." Hancock slipped into the bed beside him, pulling the blankets up under Nick's chin. "'Ren always says I make a good heater."

"It has to be almost morning, you two don't have to stay."

Warren climbed in on Nick's other side, sandwiching the synth between he and Hancock once again. Nick settled in between them, too tired to argue. 

"We're staying, Valentine. You just gotta get used to that."

 


End file.
